


When the Day Ends

by decafghosthorse (orphan_account)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Binge post!, F/M, Flashbacks, Foals, Horse trailers, Horses, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Original work - Freeform, Police, Theft, frickin tags, horse farm, minor depictions of violence, why you no cooperate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 05:30:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15789930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/decafghosthorse
Summary: After years of being separated from his only living family by grief and guilt, Walton Jeminson finally remembers what it means to be loved.And sorry Walt, but horse love doesn’t count.





	1. Introducing Walt. And a bunch of other dudes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my two betas who helped me back in tenth grade with the longest thing I have ever written! They shall remain nameless, sadly, but I want the world to know they are wonderful people!
> 
> Also: the Jake in this story is NOT the Jake from Subtle Shenanigans’ original works with the neon chicken. Her Jake is cooler, so I suggest you immediately drop this story and go read hers.
> 
> All references to farm equipment and procedures is real; one doesn’t work on a horse farm for three and a half years without picking a few things up here and there.

  _If only I had been quicker_ , mused Walton Jeminson to himself. _Would things have been different?_

 A knock on the door to his ranch-house startled Walton out of his reverie. He shut the T.V. off, rose stiffly out of his chair, and went to the door. The injury to his left leg he received while saving his younger brother’s life 27 years ago had left him with an impressive limp he would have the rest of his life.

 “Who is it?” he called, hoping it was just one of his farmhands. The youthful voice that called out, “Jacob!” confirmed his hope and he swung the well-oiled door open.

“What can I do for you, Jake?”

“Sir--”

Jake was cut off by Walton's waving hand, and he stopped, confused.

“Don't call me sir, Jake. I'm not that many years... well, maybe. But that doesn’t mean you should call me sir. Just call me Walt.”

“Alright, Walt.” Jake tested out the new name and Walt could tell the younger man liked the sound of the informal title.

“Well, Jake, what did you want?” queried Walton once more, but not unkindly. He remembered noticing the urgent look on the young man's face when he opened the door and regretted going down the rabbit-trail of titles and formalities.

Jake almost said sir again, but then realized his mistake and composed himself. “Walt, Aralandi is foaling, and she's havin' trouble. I was hoping you could come down and take a look at her?”

“What kind of trouble is she having?” Walt asked, suddenly worried, as Aralandi was his favorite Clydesdale and the best broodmare he owned.

As Jake went on to list Aralandi's troubles, Walt realized he was listing the signs of Aralandi's normal foaling habits, and he reassured the first-time foaling-hand. “Aralandi always foals like that, Jake. I was worried my first year I had her and she looked like she was having trouble too. That year and the next I called the vet, and when he came out, he said she was just fine and to leave her be. I learned that the way she foals just happens to look like the way other mares seem when they are having trouble. Aralandi's a tough girl, Jake. Don't you worry,” he finished. “Now, was there anything else you needed?”

Jake shook his head and went to leave, but then Walt had a sudden idea. “Jake, why don't you stay and have a cup of coffee with me? It's awful cold out.”

The young man shook his head and said wistfully, “I'd like to, Walt, but I've got fifteen more bales of hay to move and I've only got a wheelbarrow that can handle three at a time.”

Walt whistled in surprise. “Ain't you using the 4-wheeler yet? It's about time you did. You've been old enough to drive the last three years  you've been here.”

Jake shook his head, eyes wide open. “I didn't know I was allowed to use it. Ben alwus said I was too young, and that it was best if I left the driving of machines to him.”

Walt narrowed his eyes in disgust. “That Ben! I told him last year AFTER he crashed my tractor that he wasn't allowed to drive anythin' until further notice. And you said he's drivin' again?”

Jake nodded, and Walt's temper rose even further. As a young boy, and as a grown man, it could never be said that he wasn't fair. But, it could also never be said that the man lacked a temper on him. When Walt got upset about something, he got really upset.

“Next time you see that boy, tell him to come up to the house, cause I want a word with him.”

Jake nodded again, and turned to go. This time, Walton didn't stop him. He was too busy fuming over the rebellious Ben's actions, and what he was going to say to him.

“Confound that blister,” Jake heard Walt say as he closed the door behind him.

“He's been an issue ever since I hired him, and I think this is the last straw,” Walt muttered angrily. His angry mind roved over the problems that had occurred since he had hired the man named Ben. A sick horse, due to Ben's negligence while feeding. Walton had had to hire another man just to feed, because he couldn't trust Ben, and Will and Jake, the other two farmhands, were too young at the time. A missing fence link, because of Ben's laziness. Several horses had gotten out because of that, and he had to put down one that was hit by a car. Walt had sued Ben for that, but strangely, Ben had wanted to stay on as a worker. And not even a year ago, Ben had crashed a $15,000 tractor that was only two months old. Walt was grateful that he had insurance. But now this, telling Jake that he was too young to drive the 4-wheeler at twenty eight years old?! Now that Will and Jake were old enough, however, he didn't need four workers.

“I don't even remember why I hired him in the first place! Might be time to let somebody go.”

* * *

**_10 minutes later…_ **

“Tarnation! I told you not to drive nothin' until I said you could, and you forgot?!” Walt thundered at the young man in front of him.

“I just got so busy, that I forgot,” the young man repeated limply, hoping this would soothe his raging employer.

“Busy! You ain't done nothing but cause trouble on my farm, and even when you're  supposed to be under strict rules, kid, you cause trouble!” Walt's midwestern accent deepened as his anger intensified. “What do you think yer doin', tellin' Jake he can't drive the 4-wheeler when he's only a year younger than you? He's fully qualified to drive about anythin', if you weren't aware, and from now on he outranks you on this farm!”

“But-” Ben protested.

“No but's about it, mister. In fact, I was just about to burst your bubble and make you the least of my workers a few minutes ago, but now 'cause of this fiasco with Jake, you're fired!”

“You can't fire me! I have stuff I want to get and with this job, I just might be able to afford it!”      

“Well, you should have thought of that 'stuff' before you told Jake he couldn't drive. Now, you've got approximately two hours to get off of my property before I take a bull whip to your sorry hide!

“NOW GIT!”

Ben scurried away, jumping off the porch over the four stairs and hightailing it to the barn, to get his equipment. Walt sighed, his fury subsiding, and turned to head back inside. He needed to get dressed to head out and find someone to talk to. He was too angry to be alone...


	2. Nightmares Go Well With Coffee.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See title.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the short chapters, but I intend to binge post, so. Yeah. 
> 
> Enjoy

After putting on a coat, logger’s hat, and gloves, Walt trudged out to the barns through the fading twilight where he had seen Jake head after their conversation earlier. Walking up, he saw Jake lugging bales of hay onto a metal sled attached to the four-wheeler. Jake looked up and smiled at his approach.

“Come to help me with the hay, Walt? I don’t know if I should move more now that I can. What do you think?”

“I think you know best, son.”

“Do you mind me bringing up Ben? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable at all…” Jake looked down and waited for a response from Walt.

“No, I don’t mind, son. But I still wish he hadn’t taken so blasted long to leave. I wanted to get out here and help you, but I didn’t want to until Ben had left…”

“I don’t mind. I was just finishing with that last bale of hay when Ben came huffing and puffing into the barn. He looked real mad, so I didn’t say nothin’. Just watched him grab his stuff, and take it out to his truck. Then he came back in an’ sat down on the bale I was about to move. And he knew it too, blast his sorry hide!” Jake suddenly reddened, because he remembered that Walt had specifically asked all his workers to not use foul language at the farm.

Walt grinned, and told Jake, “I know exactly how you feel. I threatened to take a bull-whip to that same sorry hide. That was why he was running when he came to the barn. But, thanks for being ashamed. I know you remembered that one little thing I asked you to do when you first started workin’.”

Jake nodded and bent to lift a bale of hay. Walt stepped back, as the younger man picked up the bale with apparent ease.

“You decided to move more, Jake?”

“I was going to move just those 15 bales, but I’m thinkin’ that with the 4-wheeler I should move more.”

“Why, then, let me help.” Walt bent to lift a bale, but as he rose to lift the hay, he let out a cry of pain and dropped the offending bale as he fell to his knees.

“Ahh!”

Jake dropped the bale he was carrying and hurried to Walt’s side. “Walt, you okay?

“Hang it all,” Walt murmured through gritted teeth, forgetting the ban on language. “Blasted leg. Last time I went to see the doc, he said I wasn’t gonna be able to lift anythin’ real heavy for the rest of my life ‘cause of my it.”

“What happened to it, Walt?”

Walt limped slowly to a bucket, dragging his injured leg with him and accidentally ignoring Jake’s question. But before he could flip it and sit down, Jake had rushed over, stuck his arm under Walt’s arm and kept him from sitting down.

“You let me do that, Walt. Your leg is probably hurting somethin’ awful right now.”

“Tarnation, Jake, I don’t need to be mollycoddled!”

But Jake insisted on flipping the bucket over himself, and slowly lowering Walt onto it.

“Now you just rest, while I move these last couple bales and then, do you think I couldstill take you up on that coffee offer?”

Jake quickly moved the last two bales and  drove off in the 4-wheeler. Walt grinned at the quickly fading sound of the 4-wheeler, then tried to stand, almost fell again and grimaced in pain. He massaged his throbbing leg, but it didn’t do any good. Walt decided to do as the young man had instructed him, and he sat back down on the bucket, his leg stretched out before him, as this position relieved the most pain. He stayed this way for about ten minutes.

Later, Walt heard footsteps in the barn and looked up. Will, the second of three workers on the farm was approaching, with a worried look on his face.

“I heard someone shout, and I didn’t know what happened. I thought I might come and see what happened after I finished the stalls I was working on and put the wheelbarrow away.”

“I just irritated my leg, don’t you worry,” Walt said reassuringly. Will looked unconvinced and shook his head.

“Walt, if you just ‘irritated’ your leg, why are you still sitting down? Any pain would have been gone now if you just twisted it.” Will was the self-proclaimed medical student on the farm.

Walt started to say something, but changed his mind. “Are you done with your chores for today?”

Will nodded, and Walt grunted in satisfaction. “Alright then, you come with Jake and I up to the house and we’ll talk about this whole thing. I might need you two to help me get back up to the house. I don’t think I can walk that far.”

Just then, Jake, having finished moving the hay and putting the 4-wheeler away, came back into the barn. “Walt, you feeling better yet?”

Walt tried to stand up again, but his knees buckled and he sagged in Jake and Will’s protective grips. Through eyes glazed with pain, he shook his head at the two young men and said, with his teeth gritted once more, “Nope. I need you two to help me to the house.”

The two men exchanged worried glances. Never before had they seen Walt, the invincible Walt, so vulnerable. However, sure that his explanation would fix everything, they supported him all the way to the house, practically carrying him.

Once they were back in the house, Will set Walt up in an easy chair with his leg stretched out before him, as once again, that was the best position for it. Jake went about making a roaring fire to dispel the chill that had penetrated the house through the log walls.

When Walt offered coffee, Jake accepted, but Will asked if he could, if it wasn’t a problem, have tea instead. Walt was about to get up, but then Will jumped to and got the coffee and tea with Jake’s help. While the two young men were in Walt’s spacious kitchen, heating water for tea, and making coffee, Walt thought about them.

Talking to himself, Walt murmured, “What a pair of kids… I doubt Ben would have done that. I am so blessed, thank you Lord.”

He began to doze off, aided by the heat of the fire and the comfortable chair. His dreams were frightening, and as he lived through that terrible day all over again, his body trembled and the look on his face changed from terror to determination to a grimace of pain. Then, all of a sudden, he cried out, “Watch out Cole!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also Walt likes the word “Tarnation.”


	3. The Truth (Or What Walt Knows) Comes Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cause for Walt’s nightmare is revealed.

Walt jerked in his chair, the sudden noise and motion bringing both Will and Jake running out of the kitchen.

“Walt! Walt! Wake up!” Jake’s frightened voice cut through the nightmare, pulling Walt out of the terrorizing dream.

“Wha-? What happened?” Walt’s vision cleared, and he saw two worried faces peering at him. “What happened, boys? Are you alright?”

“We’re fine, Walt. You were yelling and jerking around in your chair. I thought you were having a heart attack or somethin’!” Jake had in his hands a roll of paper towels, undoubtedly for cleaning up a spill in the kitchen, but now he used some to gently wipe the sweat off of Walt’s face.  Will, hearing the kettle screech, rushed into the kitchen, and moments later brought out tea for himself and coffee for Walt and Jake.

“Thank you, Will. This’ll help calm my nerves. I’ve never had anything like that happen to me before.” Walt straightened his shoulders, sitting up in the leather armchair. His hands, especially the one without a cup in it, were visibly shaking, reflecting the owner’s shaken mind.

“Did you have a nightmare, Walt?” queried Will. “I’ve seen my little brother have nightmares, but none that made him shaky like you are now…”

“I’m fine, Will, and yes, I did have a nightmare. But what could have caused that, I’ll never know! I-” He paused, considering something. “Did I say anything?”

“I heard, ‘Watch out Cole!’” Jake mentioned, as helpfully as he could. “Is that someone you knew?”

Sighing, Walt sipped his coffee. “I suppose you boys will be wanting the whole story. Am I right?”

“Well, if you want to tell us, Walt, I’m fine with hearing it.” Will’s brown eyes were full of sympathy and care for Walt.

“I’d like to know, if that isn’t too much trouble?” Jake added, rather bashfully.

“Okay, I’ll tell you. It’s a long story, though, and you might be here for a while, though. Do either of you need to be home any time soon?”

At the shake of both boys’ heads, Walt took a deep breath and began...

“A long time ago, I had a brother named Cole. We were as close as two peas in a pod, even though I was a few years older. I went where Cole went, and Cole followed me wherever I went. When I was 21, and Cole was 19, our parents gave us permission to go on our own hunting trip. We had been going for almost 7 years with our dad, but this time was special.

“We were all packed up and ready to go when our parents came out to say goodbye. My dad warned us to watch out for bears and the like, and my mom stuffed a few more things in our bags. I never did check to see what she put in them. Anyway, we hopped on our four-wheelers, and off we went.

“The first few days of our trip were pretty successful. We both managed to bring down bucks, although Cole’s was a bit bigger than mine. We had the bucks hanging from a couple branches in a pine tree, which was probably why we had a bit of company that night. Both of us were bowhunters, which meant that after we were done hunting for the day, we unstrung them so they wouldn’t break under the stress.

“The fourth night of our trip, after we had eaten and gone to bed, a grizzly bear visited us. Because our bows were unstrung, we had to use our hunting knives to get him to leave our food alone. But, he wouldn’t have anything to do with that. It just irritated him, and boy, when he got mad, it was a sight to see. Finally, we managed to get in and give him a couple of quick cuts, but he still wouldn’t leave. He knocked Cole’s knife out of his hand, and gave him a clout to the head. I got mad, and rushed in, trying to protect Cole. That didn’t do much good.” Walt paused, getting teary-eyed. His voice was getting huskier and huskier.

“Walt, if you don’t want to tell us the rest, that’s okay. We don’t have to know.” Will protested. Jake nodded, but Walt shook his head.

“I’m fine.

“This grizzly was nastier than any bear I had ever seen. Instead of just lumbering off, like any bear with sense, he kept going after Cole, ignoring me entirely. This gave me an edge, but I still had trouble keeping between Cole and the grizzly. Finally, I was able to stand in front of Cole, but the bear gouged me down my right thigh with his claws. That’s why I have the limp.”

Again, a nod of understanding from both boys.

“Anyway, after I went down, he went after Cole again. Because I could hardly stand, I tried to crawl over, but it was no use. The grizzly was too fast, and I wasn’t even entirely conscious because of my leg. He got to Cole, and messed him up bad, even though he wasn’t fighting back. When he realized that Cole wasn’t trying to get him with his knife,  he lumbered off, pulling one of the deer down as he went and dragging it after him.

“I was finally able to get to Cole. He was unconscious, and from what I could tell, beat up. I pulled myself to our tent, grabbed the medical kit, and did what I could for Cole and myself. Thankfully, we lived up in the mountains, so we weren’t too far away from our house. I radioed my parents, and they came and picked us up.”

Here Walt paused again, his voice dropping to a whisper and tears starting to run down his face.

“Cole didn’t make it down the mountain into town. I never went hunting again. Couldn’t even step into his room without breaking down. Can’t talk about him without breaking down.

“He was engaged, but after he died, none of us really did anything to try and keep his fiancé  around. We were all too heartbroken to.”

Walt finished and grabbed a tissue. His face was streaked with tears, and he was inwardly sobbing. But, for the sake of Jake and Will, he gathered his composure and faced them.

“I’m sorry, Walt,” Will said softly. He could feel tears pricking at the edges his eyes.

“Me too, Walt,” agreed Jake. He as well was on the verge of crying. “To lose someone like that… That should never happen…”

“Thank you, Jake, Will,” Walt said. “You best be getting home now, the both of you. It’s late and I’m sure you have things to do.”

Both nodded, and after gathering up their gear, headed outside. Neither of the young men, or Walt knew that Walt hadn’t told them the whole story…


	4. All’s Well That Ends Well... So Far

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the excitement and pain from the day, Walt forgets why Jake ever came up to his door in the first place. It seems that just falling asleep is the best moment to remember that reason.

Walt sat in his chair, not budging for an hour or more after Jake and Will left. Too afraid to go back to sleep, lest he suffer another nightmare, he gazed into the fire. Finally, he got up, using the chairs in his living room for support until he could reach the wall near the door.

“Never thought I would have to use this bugger again,” he mused, reaching for a hardened wood crutch leaning on the wall under the myriad of coats. Settling the crutch more or less comfortably under his arm, he limped to a desk set against the far back wall of the room. Clicking a drawer open, he pulled out a photo he had only ever seen once.

It was a picture of his mother, father, his brother Cole and his fiancé Kat, and Walt himself. A dog sat loyally by Walt’s side, gazing at the camera man, whom Walt remembered having to hold a strip of bacon above his head to keep the dog’s eyes focused in the general direction of the camera. Walt laughed softly. Oh, for the times when everything had been right, and safe, and everyone had been there. He gazed at the faces of his parents, smiling with faces that were crinkled from so many other hilarious occasions. Cole was grinning boyishly, and holding on tight to Kat’s hand. She looked beautiful, her face split by a huge smile and laughing eyes. No wonder Cole had fallen in love with her.

Walt’s roaming eyes wandered over to his own image. With a hand in the dog’s fur, he had a hearty, content smile on his face. Walt grimaced. That was the face of a man who knew nothing of the future. He looked back at Cole and Kat.

There was something wrong with this image, Walt felt. Something was out of place. Then he saw it. The ring on the third finger of Cole’s left hand. Walt visibly jumped. That wasn’t supposed to be there. Cole and Kat were just engaged, weren’t they?

Another suspicion crept towards the front of the jumble of thoughts in his brain, and he peered closely at Kat, putting on his rarely used glasses to see even more clearly. Her left hand, which also had a ring on it, was resting on her stomach. He jerked back, then looked again. Sure enough, her hand was resting on the slightest of bumps. How he never noticed it until now, he couldn’t say. But he had seen it, and that was enough.

Walt closed the drawer with a slam, making the pictures above the desk rattle. Taking the picture to his indoor workshop, he found an old picture frame that fit the photo just right.

He limped back into the house, where he placed the frame on the mantle above his fireplace. Picking up his coffee cup, which now held cold and non-tempting coffee, he walked to the kitchen with the aid of his crutch and dumped the unappetizing drink down the drain. He needed to sleep tonight, and reheating the stuff would only make it harder.

That night, as he lay in bed, the crutch leaning against the nightstand and within easy reach, he suddenly remembered Aralandi, and her foal. She had all but been forgotten due to Walt’s own injury, and he hadn’t checked on her.

Walt was up and out of the house, albeit still in his pajamas and with his crutch, less than five minutes later. The walk to the barn, which was about a quarter of a mile away, was easily avoided. This, he told himself, was the reason he had had Jake park the quad in the garage before he left. Rumbling up to the barn, he wasn’t surprised to see a light still on. He knew either the vet or John or both, would have stayed with Aralandi until all was well.

Using his crutch, he walked, or hobbled, up to the door. Opening it, he saw John and the vet leaning against the wall of the foaling stall. Walt hopped in the door, and then muttered, “Ow…” His leg was going to be a pain for the next week or so.

“Howdy, Walt. What’s with the crutch?” John queried, concern spreading over his face. He had heard Walt’s muttered complaint, and putting two and two together, he said, “Your leg botherin’ you agin?”

“Yup. Tried to lift a bale of hay today. Dumbest thing I’ve done for a long time.”

“Yup, sure was.” John laughed, and then the vet rose and shook Walt’s free hand.

“Hello, Walt. I s’pose you’re wondering why both of us are here, aren’t you?”

“Well, if you want to tell me… Of course I was wonderin’, Aaron. Aralandi doesn’t usually have this much trouble, let alone any, for both of you to be here. I’m starting to get a bit worried.”

John, who glanced at Aaron, opened his mouth to say something, then changed his mind. “I think you’d best be seeing her, Walt. I just want to prepare you…”

“For what, John? Come on man, spit it out!”

Aaron chuckled. “I think you may need to start planning on buying a bit more feed, Walt.”

Walt looked quizzically at John, then at Aaron. “What?!”

John motioned with his hand, gesturing to the stall that he had been sitting against. “Keep calm and get over here, ya muffinhead.”

Limping to the stall door, Walt looked in and felt his breath catch in his chest. His broodmare Aralandi was standing, nuzzling not one, but two identical Clydesdale foals. “Oh. Think she’ll keep both of ‘em, Aaron?”

“Oh, I think so. If she were going to reject one of them, she would have by now. Granted, we may have to supplement the milk they get from her with some of our own, but they both seem fine.”

“What are they? ”

“Boy and girl. The girl is over by her mama.”

“Who’s older?”

“The boy.”

“How long have you been here, Aaron?”

“Just for a few hours, Walt. John called me after the colt was born, since he saw that Aralandi wasn’t finished foaling.”

“Surely she finished at least an hour ago, John. Why are you two still here?”

John snorted. “Well, I wanted to sleep in here tonight anyway, what with two other mares ready to foal any day now, and Aaron and I just got to talking. We made a wager on how long it would take you to get out here. Speaking of which, Aaron, you owe me a soda next time we’re both in town.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll just make sure not to be around.”

Walt snorted, then joined both men in gazing at the foals. “They sure are handsome.” Reaching in, he fondled Aralandi’s ears. The mare had moved towards the door when she heard her favorite human’s voice. “You ought to be proud, ‘Landi.”

“Well, I’ll be bidding you gentlemen goodnight,” Aaron said, gathering his supplies.

“G’night, Aaron,” John answered.

“Goodnight, and thank you, Aaron. I’ll tell the rest of the mares to not bother you,” Walt added with a laugh.

“Thanks.” Aaron closed the door behind him, leaving Walt and John staring at the foals.

“You know, it still beats me how she manages to recognize her kids, even years later. Remember last year, when she saw Rebellious, her 5-year-old?”

“Yeah, she was snorting up a storm.” Walt agreed. “Welp, I best be going back to bed. I’ll have to call my doc in the morning about this confounded leg.”

“Goodnight, Walt. See you in the morning?”

“Maybe. Goodnight, John.”

Walt drove the quad back up to the house and went back to bed. He fell asleep, musing over what John had said about Aralandi recognizing her own foals, years later.

Suddenly, he had a thought that made him jerk up in bed, wide awake, sending pain shooting down his leg. He ignored his leg, focusing on one idea entirely: would he recognize his own family, if he were to see them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an FYI twins foals (baby horses) are pretty rare, so ‘Landi’s kids are something special.


	5. In Which Disaster Strikes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuunnnn!!! Le plot (what little there is) thickens.

Waking up bright and early on the following morning, Walt had one thing in mind. He was deadset on getting in touch with Kat and finding out what had happened to her and their unborn child following Cole’s death. He ate a hurried breakfast of eggs and coffee, barely tasting either as he rushed to get out the door to the town hall, where he hoped to find Kat’s information.

After grumbling to himself about having to be so reliant on a “confounded stick,” Walt limped out of his house and onto the porch, only to stop short in surprise as he caught sight of John running from the barn up to the house, a look of horror on his face.

“What’s wrong, John?” Walt queried the man as he doubled over, gasping to catch his breath. It was a quite a distance, and from the looks of it, John had been sprinting the whole way.

“Aralandi… her foals… They’re gone!” John wheezed out. He steadied himself on the porch railing, taking deep breaths and shaking his head.

“Gone? Whaddya mean, gone?”

“I mean gone, Walt. Clear up and disappeared! And I was sleeping in the loft the whole time, with alarms set for every hour to check on the other mares!”

“Are you sure?”

“Walt, you know I’m the first person in the barns in the morning! I specifically went to check on ‘Landi first and that’s when I saw that she was gone!”

“No trace of her? At all?”

“Nothin’! I double checked the latch on the door, and it was shut so it would look like she was still in there!”

“All right, calm down, John. You checked everywhere she could be? The pasture, any other stalls?” A sinking feeling was beginning to grow in Walt’s stomach.

“I checked, Walt. There was no trace of her or her foals.” John’s face had gone from horrified to angry and disgusted while he was talking to Walt. “I should have kept a better watch.”

“Oh, stop it, John. A man’s got to sleep!” Walt looked at him disapprovingly. “Did you contact anyone yet?”

“No. I had to tell you first, and I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure.”

“Okay, I’ll call the police. John?” Walt paused, then added, “Don’t touch anything else.”

“But I have to feed!”

“Wear gloves or something,” Walt ordered. “I don’t want you getting accused by accident.”

His earlier plans pushed aside, Walt turned around and went back inside. He picked up the phone and dialed the police. While waiting, his mind wandered to who could have taken his favorite mare and her foals. Suddenly, he realized that someone on the other end of the line had spoken and was expecting a reply.

He sheepishly asked, “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

An slightly exasperated voice on the other end responded, “I said, ‘This is 9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

“I need to speak with the police. My name is Walton Jeminson, and I need to report the theft of one of my horses.”

“I’m patching you through now, Mr. Jeminson. Please wait a moment.”

Walt shifted his crutch to a more comfortable position, slouching a bit against the wall where his phone was installed. He had refused to have a modern landline installed in his home, and still had a phone on his wall.

“This is Inspector Vanner speaking. How can I help you, Mr. Jeminson?”

“Please, call me Walt. I need to report that one of my broodmares has been stolen, and with her two brand-new foals.”

“All right, Walt. Do you think you could come up to my office at 11 today?” Vanner asked, somewhat resignedly.

“Of course. I sure hope you can help me, Inspector. Have a good day,” Walt said. Hanging up, he hobbled back outside to his truck, then stopped halfway there.

He had recently heard someone say they needed money, but who was it? Walt couldn’t place the name, but he was ready to bet his bottom dollar that whoever it was, they had taken his mare and her foals in order to sell them. His farm was known for producing high quality Clydesdales, and they often sold for 5-figure prices, or more. Walt’s jaw became a grim line. He was determined to find whoever the perpetrator was; the thoughts about his family were pushed to the side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not good at writing police interactions, sorry. :0
> 
> Um the inspector’s name might also be based off a breed of horse? Ehehe? (Look up gypsy vanners. They are gorgeous.)


	6. What’s in a Name?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the way to catch a thief, Walt is caught by an interesting coincidence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so bad a summaries lol

As Walt drove through his small hometown of Casattdale, he mused frustratedly on the list of people he thought would have had the reasons to steal his best mare and her new foals. So far, he had a rival farm owner, who went by the name of Owen Latson, and… That was it. His mind was drawing a blank as to possible suspects, and it infuriated Walt. Who could have had the nerve to rob him of one of his most prized possessions?

 By the time he arrived at the police station, Walt had worked himself into a small fury. When he walked through the door, although he was limping, the scowl on his face warned the others in the station to avoid him. He stalked up to the desk as best as possible, and told the young officer at the desk his name.

“Inspector Vanner is waiting in his office, Mr. Jeminson. It’s down the hallway, second door on the right.”

“Thank you.”

Walt hobbled down to the door he had been directed to, and knocked heavily. Although he had the crutch, his leg was beginning to hurt badly, and he was becoming exhausted by the constant presence of the pain.

“Come in,” a gravelly voice said.

“Are you Inspector Vanner?” Walt queried tiredly.

“I sure am, Mr. Jeminson. Come in, take a seat. Can I ask why the crutch?” The man behind the desk had shortly cropped, dark brown hair, a muscular build, and a long, stereotypical trench coat hanging on his chair.

“It’s nothin’. I just aggravated an old injury yesterday. Can you help me find my horses?”

“I can do my best, Walt- I can call you Walt, right?”

“Yes.”

“Back to the topic of your horses, Walt. When was the last time you saw them?”

“I was out in the main barn on my property last night a few hours after the foals were born. The vet, Aaron Smith, and my hired hand, John Wilson, were also in the barn, but Aaron left around 11, 11:30ish. John stayed in the barn all night, just to keep watch. I would trust John with my life, and he’s been working for me for years.”

“That helps. Who else works for you?”

“Two young men, Jake J. and Will Tresutt.”

“Do you know Jake’s full last name?”

“No, I never asked him. But he and Will have also been working for me for a few years, so I trust them too.”

“Have you ever had anyone else work for you? For instance, have you ever fired or had someone quit?”

“Yes, actually. Just yesterday, in fact. I fired a man named Ben Michaels. He’d been causing trouble for a long time, and it just sort of reached a climax yesterday. He didn’t want me to fire him, said he needed mon-...” The realization of what he had just said hit Walt like a thunderbolt. “Inspector, I think I know who stole my horses. Ben would have known that Aralandi, she’s the mare, was foaling. John told me that he got up every hour to check on them, but if Ben was real quiet, he could have sneaked the trio out of the barn.

“John’s admitted to being a heavy sleeper, so it would take a pretty loud noise to wake him up. Ben would have also known that Aralandi and her foals would fetch a handsome price…” Walt’s voice, which had been rising in volume the last minute, trailed off.

“What are you thinking, Walt?” Vanner asked. The inspector had leaned forward to write something on a pad of paper, and was staring at Walt, eyes slitted. “Do you know where Ben lives?

“Sure as shootin’ I do. I have all my employees sign a release waiver, keeps me from losing everything if they get hurt and try to blame me for it. Matter of fact, Ben has tried to do exactly that a few times, but it never panned out. His address should be on his form.

“I can get it for you, but I’ll have to go to the town hall. I keep all my records there.”

“I’ll go with you, Walt. If it’s that close, I might as well get a warrant for Ben’s arrest, if we find him or the horses at the address. While we’re there, you might want to check on Jake’s last name as well. Just to be safe. You know what I’m saying?”

“Yeah, I got you.”

“Then let’s go and find your horse thief, Walt!”


	7. There’s No Place Like Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The robbery comes to a head, and more information comes to light about Walt’s past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *foreshadows even harder*

In the town hall, Walt quickly accessed his personal records and began rummaging through them for Ben’s information.

Vanner stood nearby, speaking to a receptionist in low tones. He then asked to borrow her phone and called his office.

“Don? Hello, this is Vanner… Yes, I know this isn’t my usual number, but I left my cellphone at the office… Look, can you catch up with me at town hall, and bring my phone?… I’ll explain later, just meet me here? … Thanks.”

Walt finally found Ben’s form and pulled it out of the case, and called Vanner over.

“Found it, Inspector.”

“That’s great. Hey, Walt. Is Jake’s form in there too?”

“Sure is. That’s right, we were going to look at it.”

Walt rummaged for a second more, then pulled a second sheet of paper out of the same folder. For a moment he peered at the blurry page, then remembered his glasses and pulled them out.

Muttering something about senility and old age, Walt looked at the page again. A confused expression came over his face as he looked at Jake’s last name.

Intrigued by Walt’s reaction, Vanner asked, “What’s wrong?”

“You know my last name, right, Inspector?”

“Course I do. Why?”

“Take a look.”

Walt handed Vanner the form, and Vanner scanned the page, noticing the similarity of Jake’s last name to Walt’s.

“He’s got the same last name as you, Walt.”

“Yup.”

“What’re you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know.”

”It might just be a chance thing. I wonder though, since Jeminson isn’t really a common name.”

”Maybe.”

“Well, do you want to address this or Ben first?”

“Good point. We should definitely go after Ben first.”

“Alright.”

A man walked in, saw the two others standing at the cabinet, and hurried over. “Found your phone, Van. Anything else I can do?”

“Hello Don. Walt, this is Don Jenkins. He’s a senior detective. Don, this is Walt Jeminson. He’s the reason I called you. His mare and her two brand-new foals are missing.”

“Hello, Walt.”

“Don.”

The men shook hands, and Vanner hurriedly filled Don in on the details, including how they suspected Ben of having stolen the horses.

The inspector decided they would take his BMW so that Ben wouldn’t recognize his ex-boss’ truck and make a run for it, along with Aralandi and her foals. As they cruised along the highway, Walt’s concern for his horses continually increased as his confusion over Jake’s last name decreased. It was probably just a coincidence, and the issue slid to the back of his mind.  

“I think this is it, Walt. Can I see the address again?”

Walt was snapped out of his musing by Inspector Vanner’s question. “Hmm? Oh, yeah.” He handed Vanner the release form, then looked out the window of the car. A shining, oblong shape sat half a mile away from the road, far enough away to obscure the exact details. However, Walt’s experienced eye saw the movement inside as a head bobbed up and down, blocking out the light coming through slits of light in the silver shape.

“That’s a horse in that trailer, Inspector,” Walt said quietly.

“Are you sure?” queried the inspector.

“I’m sure. Is there a car in the driveway, an old green truck?”

“Yup. Wait, here comes someone.”

A young girl walked around the side of the house, saw the car pulling up alongside the house, and turned immediately to go in the house.

“Think Ben’s home or just using a different car?” Walt’s brow was furrowed as he switched his gaze from the trailer to the house, then back to the house.

“He won’t be for much longer. Do you want to talk to him first or go look at the horse or horses in that trailer?”

“I’d rather you two spoke to Ben while I took a look at the trailer. If it is my horses, then I want to be able to be sure, rather than just sling accusations around.”

“Makes sense. We’ll go ask him about something random, and that should give you time to check out the trailer.”

“All right.”

The three men got out of the car, then split up as Inspector Vanner and Detective Don walked towards the house and Walt angled out to the trailer. As he made his way out to the trailer, Walt did his best to push the thoughts about Jake to the back of his mind in order to deal with the crisis at hand.

As he approached the trailer, he began to hear the thumping sounds of a large horse’s hooves, then the lighter tapping sounds of smaller hooves. By this point, he was convinced that Ben had taken his mare and her foals. When he finally reached the silver box, Walt noticed that compared to the rest of the property, as well as the vehicles in the driveway, the trailer was almost brand-new and stood out like a sore thumb among the long grass it was parked in. He walked to the back where the doors were and noticed with pleasure that the trailer gate was not padlocked, as he had feared it would be. Cautiously, Walt swung one side of the trailer double-door open, then grinned in relief and joy.

“‘Landi! I thought I had lost you!”

The Clydesdale mare responded to his voice with a low nicker, turning as far as she could towards him within the limits of the lead rope that had her tied to the wall. The foals, however, were not restrained and turned completely around, staring at Walt with wide, frightened eyes.

“What’s the nasty boy done to you?” Walt crooned in a voice completely unlike his usual gruff tone, a voice kept entirely for his horses. Slowly, he walked in, so as to not startle Aralandi, and untied the lead rope from the wall of the trailer. Shocked, he noticed that in front of Aralandi were water buckets with fresh, clean water and a bucket containing  the remnants of horse feed.

More to himself than to the horses, Walt muttered, “Now who would’ve thought that Ben would have fed you, ‘Landi?” He remembered the young girl they had seen coming around the house. “I bet it was her, because Ben wouldn’t have done something like that.

“Now, let’s get you home. First though, we have to make sure Ben pays for his crimes.”

Slowly, Walt backed Aralandi out of the trailer, then turned her around and led her towards the house, her foals sticking close to her sides as they walked to the house. Walt didn’t have to worry about them running off; they were too young to leave their mother.

Inside, Inspector Vanner and his companion had been having similar good results, in that Ben was home and had no idea as to why these “insurance agents” were at his house. The inspector didn’t like having to lie, but it was the only way to not make Ben suspicious and to keep him home until Walt found out if it were Aralandi and her foals in the trailer or not.

“So, my auto policy has expired, huh?”

“Yes, but instead of no longer covering you, we’ve decided to give you a month to start paying again.”

A knock at the door surprised all three, and Don jumped up to see who it was. He opened the door a crack, started with surprise but composed himself quickly, nodded to Vanner, and stepped outside.

“Crimanetly, Walt! She’s huge!”

Walt’s face, no longer serious, was wreathed in a huge grin. “Isn’t she? I’ve never been gladder to see this mammoth girl in my life.” His face became grim once more. “Is Ben inside?”

“Yup. Vanner’s keeping him busy with some insurance racket.”

“Good. Do you think he could convince Ben to come outside?”

“Probably. Why?”

“Because I want to watch his face when he sees me and my horses. If he starts blustering and shouting, which I’m guessing is what will happen, we can know for sure that he took my girl and her foals.”

“Makes sense. I’ll do my best to go find an excuse.”

“Thanks.”

Don walked back inside, just as Vanner was beginning to run out of conversation about the “expired auto policy.” Coming to his rescue, Don suggested that they go outside to look at the subject of the “policy,” in order to find out how much Ben would be paying for his insurance.

Almost as soon as the three walked outside, and Ben laid eyes on Walt and the three horses, his demeanor changed from slightly worried about his insurance to furious, and as Walt had predicted, blustering.

“What are you doing here?! Those aren’t your horses!” Spinning around, he glared at Vanner and Don. “You aren’t insurance agents! You tricked me!”

Walt grimaced as the foals started at the loud noise, then spoke. “Ben, why did you take Aralandi?”

“I didn’t take her! You told me I could have her!”

“No, I didn’t. When I fired you, I told you to take your belongings and get off my property, not take my belongings and get off my property. You stole my best mare and her new foals, which you should have known better about!”        

Vanner interrupted, before the situation got any more heated. “Walt, please calm down.” The older man subsided, but his jaw clenched. Vanner continued, “Benjamin, did you or did you not take these horses illegally off of the premises of this man?”

For a moment Ben’s face was a wash of confusion, but then he realized what Vanner was saying. “I did not; he said I could take them.”

“Why would he give you his horses, if you were fired on no uncertain terms?” Don asked him. “Normally, when someone is fired, they don’t walk away with a gift from their employer.”

“Well, this wasn’t normal-”

“It was, Ben. You got kicked off my property for being careless and disrespectful of my rules and requests. I’m pretty sure that counts as a normal occasion of being fired.”

“Fine, but-”

“No buts about it, sir.” Vanner produced the warrant for arrest from inside his coat. “I think that the fact that the horses were here on your property in your trailer pretty much seals the deal. I’m sure we’ll find your fingerprints on the barn doors and trailer doors as well. Don?”

The detective produced a pair of handcuffs, which he snapped onto Ben’s wrists.

Walt stopped them before they put Ben in the back seat of the car. “Ben, who was that girl here?”

Sullenly, Ben replied, “My sister, Senna.”

Walt nodded, then called, “Senna!”

The girl came out from the house, where she had been watching at a window.

Walt looked at her. “Thank you for caring for my horses, young lady.”

Senna mumbled a quick “You’re welcome” and hurried back inside.

Vanner shut the door on the car and turned to Walt. “How’re you going to get your horses home, Walt?”

“I’ve thought about that, Vanner. I’ll give John a call and ask him to come out with my trailer and pick us up. Thanks for your help, Inspector, Detective.” The men shook hands and Vanner and Don departed with their passenger in the back seat.

Walt turned to his horses and, with a loving smile on his face, said, “Let’s get you lot back home, huh?”

After calling John, Walt unhooked Aralandi’s lead rope, trusting her to not wander off. He then began running his hands down her legs, and the foals’ legs, and checking for any cuts, bruises, or other injuries. So help him, if Ben had hurt his horses, he was going to bring the law down on that ridiculous troublemaker so hard that Ben would feel it for years. Thankfully, for Ben’s sake, there were no marks on the short coats of any of the horses.

Walt watched as Aralandi folded her massive legs under her and lay down. Her foals nestled as close as they could to their mother, and Walt decided to do the same while waiting. He sat down, putting his crutch to the side, and leaned against Aralandi’s huge frame. It would be a little while before John could bring the trailer, and Walt figured since he had had an exhausting, pain-filled, and stressful day, it wouldn’t hurt to get off his leg and rest for a bit.

 


	8. And So It Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the sun sets, the light returns to Walt’s life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang I be getting good at mysterious.

Walt didn’t know if it was the pure exhaustion acting or he was just fortunate, but his short sleep was not haunted by nightmares of the past. He awoke to John gently shaking his shoulder, and he sat up. Aralandi still lay with her legs underneath her body, and her foals snuggled, fast asleep, next to Walt. He looked blearily around, then his eyesight cleared and he stood.

“Hello, sleeping beauty!” John said in an amused tone. Walt glared at him, then reached for his crutch. Nestling it under his arm, he leaned on it, but thankfully his leg didn’t hurt as badly as it had before. Sleep, he told himself, did wonders

“Hey, John. Did you bring the trailer?”

“Sure did boss! Want me to load up ‘Landi and her foals?”

“Fine by me. I’m going to need to you to drop me off at town hall, though. I left my truck there and I need to pick up some papers.”

“Okey dokey!”

Forty-five minutes later, Walt sat at the same table in the town hall, staring at the paper in his hand. He had checked Jake’s date of birth, and his mind was swirling. The date was almost exactly nine months after Cole’s death. The last name, Jeminson, and the date… They couldn’t be just coincidental, could they?

Walt went to the desk and rang the bell. The receptionist appeared from behind a filing cabinet and asked, “How can I help you, sir?”

“I’m looking for a birth certificate that would be about 27 years old, but I’m not sure if it would be kept here or in the city where the child was born.”

“The parents of the child would most likely have the original copy, but I can look for it in the database. Would you like me to?”

“Yes, please.”

“Can I get a name?”

“Jackson Elliot Jeminson.”

“Thank you, one moment.”

The receptionist’s fingers flew fast and furious over the keyboard, paused for a moment, then flew over it again. “Would this Jackson be from Gandon City?”

“If it is 28 years old, then yes.”

“I have it here, but I need a legitimate reason for you to be able to look at it. We don’t usually let just anyone see other people’s private documents.”

“Would a driver’s license work? I think I may be related.”

“I suppose so… May I see it?”

Walt fumbled around in his wallet for a moment, then handed her his license. The receptionist glanced at it for a moment, then handed it back. “Seeing as you think you may be related, and you have the exact same last name, I will give you what information you need. I cannot permit you to look at the image, however.”

“I understand.”

“What would you like to know?”

“I was wondering what his mother and father’s names were.”

“Very well. His father was Cole H. Jeminson and his mother was Katherine L. Jeminson.”

Walt’s vision swam, and he gripped the edge of the desk to keep himself from falling.

“Sir? Are you alright?” The concerned voice of the receptionist made its way to his reeling brain.

“Yes, I’m fine. You said Cole and Katherine?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you so much.” Walt slowly placed the release form back in its appropriate file and made his way out to his truck. Once inside, he leaned his head against the steering wheel and closed his eyes. How could he have not ever connected the two?

Walt sat up and composed himself, then drove home. It was nearing three o’clock and he hadn’t eaten since seven that morning. After rummaging through his fridge at home, he found some leftovers from a few days ago. He also searched his medicine cabinet for pain medicine for his leg, which had begun to act up again. Walt sat down with a cup of coffee in front of the ashes of the previous night’s fire. He was too bewildered to light another fire, and as the day was significantly warmer than the previous, there was no need to. His mind still reeling from the day’s events, he fell asleep.

The following day, Walt called Jake.

“Hey Walt! What can I do for you?”

“Is your mom at home?”

“She sure is. Did I do something wrong?”

“No, I just want to talk to her.”

“Here she is, Walt.”

“Hello, Kat.

“Hello?

“It’s Walt.”

“Walt!”

“Hey. How ya’ been?”

“I’ve been — What am I saying? Where are you?”

“I’m at home.”

“Where is home? I need to come see you!”

“Home is Klydestail Acres, Kat. I’m sure you’ve driven by it to drop Jake off, right?”

“Yes, yes, yes. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Walt chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m not busy. See you then, Kat.” The end of the line went dead, and Walt hung the receiver up on the wall.

15 minutes later, he was sitting in his living room, sipping coffee. Kat perched on a leather chair across from him, toying with a cup of coffee like her son.

“So, how’ve you been, Kat?”

“I’ve been good. How are you?”

“Fine, fine.”

After an awkward silence, Walt began, "Kat..."

"I know what you're going to ask, Walt," Kat replied.

The two sat in silence for a little while longer.

"What I..." the two said at the same time.

"But when..." they said again. Awkwardness aside, Kat said, "Walt, I haven't told Jake. After Cole died, I retreated from the rest of the family, you remember? I kept the pregnancy hidden. I didn't want to be a burden after such a hard time."

"I looked at the picture, Kat. I came across it after rummaging through some papers. The picture we took the day before we left..." Walt cleared his throat and continued. "Anyway, I could tell you had a slight bump and after noticing Jake had the same last name, seeing the photo, thinking about that day... I know that you two were crazy about each other."

"We were," Kat said with a tear in her eye. "I loved Cole with every ounce of my heart and when I lost him, it was like part of my heart died.. But Walt," She said.

"Yes?"

"I haven’t ever blamed you for what happened."

It seemed as if an invisible weight had been lifted off of Walt's shoulders and he let out of heavy sigh as he slumped back in his chair. Tears welled in his eyes and he choked out, "Thank you Kat. I've been waiting to hear that for years."

 

**Several months later...**

“You know, I really shouldn’t be doing this, with my leg and all.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Uncle Walt! I’ve done this quite a few times already and I haven’t used my legs at all.”

With a snort of incredulity, Walt prepared to jump out of the hayloft onto a massive air-filled cushion. It was his fiftieth birthday, and Kat and Jake had pulled all the strings, even inviting friends Walt hadn’t seen for years.

It was late, and the party had been over for half an hour. However, Jake had one more surprise up his sleeve. To Walt’s slight horror, Jake had led him up the stairs in the barn with a blindfold over his eyes, slowly and carefully, only to reveal the matter in question, a massive pillow-shaped airbag. John stood in the background, a smile splitting his face, and next to him Kat was snickering.

“What’s so funny, if I may ask?” Walt inquired.

“Nothing, Walt, nothing,” John replied, just a tad too quickly for Walt’s liking.

“Huh. Oh well, here I go!” And with that, Walt pushed off the hayloft edge with a grunt and landed on the  huge bag. The closest exit was the other end of the bag, and Walt crawled towards it, only to be shot up in the air as John landed on the other end. When Walt recovered from landing on a pile of hay, he turned around and glared at the culprits. Jake and Kat were still up in the hay loft, leaning on each other for support as they roared with laughter. John was doubled over, wheezing and cackling. Walt tried to keep shooting daggers at them, but he eventually gave in and started laughing as well. What else is family for, if not to live, love, and laugh with you when the day ends?

**Author's Note:**

> I. Hate. Google. Docs.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
